


If there's no one beside you

by Saasan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Ending -- Season 7, Grief/Mourning, M/M, No more tags to prevent spoilers, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sort Of, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 08:12:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16488917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saasan/pseuds/Saasan
Summary: Shiro was excellent at compartmentalizing his emotions.  It was just one of the many things that made him a good leader--he could love and respect his subordinates while still ordering them into battle.It was also why he was able to watch Voltron fall from the sky without screaming.~~~Season 7 Alternate Ending -- Keith dies.  Warning for suicidal thoughts/ideation.  No attempts.





	If there's no one beside you

_Love of mine,_

_someday you will die,_

_but I’ll be close behind_

_and follow you into the dark_

 

_No blinding light_

_or tunnel to gates of white_

_just our hands clasped so tight_

_waiting for the hint of a spark_

 

_If heaven and hell decide_

_that they both are satisfied--_

_illuminate the No’s in their Vacancy signs--_

_If there’s no one beside you_

_when your soul embarks,_

_then I will follow you into the dark_

 

_\--Death Cab for Cutie_

 

 

Shiro was excellent at compartmentalizing his emotions.  It was just one of the many things that made him a good leader--he could love and respect his subordinates while still ordering them into battle.  

 

It was also why he was able to watch Voltron fall from the sky without screaming.

 

~*~*~

 

There were no vital signs.  Not from Atlas’ readings, not from Shiro’s shaking fingers to a silent pulse point, not from the makeshift pod he insisted--demanded--they hurry Keith into.  There was nothing but a body and Shiro had known it from the second he saw Black hit the ground. 

 

But it was unthinkable.  It was unbearable.  It was so foreign to everything that was right and true and real in the universe that Shiro refused to let them take Keith from the pod--not until Krolia came back, he said.  

 

“She’ll want to see him,” he explained, and since she’d already lost his father without getting to say goodbye, the least they could do was preserve Keith for her.  

 

No one could--or perhaps no was willing to--argue with that.  There _was_ some argument when Shiro insisted they not announce Keith’s death.

 

“They’ll want to know why we aren’t burying him yet,” Shiro said.  “We’ll say he’s in a coma and in critical condition.  It won’t surprise anyone if he passes away later.”  

 

They let the matter go.  He overheard people in the halls saying “let him grieve in his own way”.  He didn’t care.  He visited Keith everyday and knew that worried Coran and the Paladins and probably the entire Garrison and he didn’t care.  He had to see him.  He had to check. 

 

Keith had never given up on him.  

 

Not even after everyone told him Shiro was dead.  

 

~*~*~

 

Krolia spent a long time alone with Keith’s body.  When she came out, Keith was in her arms.  Shiro was instantly sick and vomited on the floor.  How could she do that to him?!  How could she do that when he wasn't--he might--they hadn’t--

 

“Check Black,” he gasped.  “At least check Black.  Black had me--you have to check Black.”  

 

It was reasonable enough that they did, testing one by one just as they had after Shiro died.  Shiro knew in his gut that he was severed for good, but he tried anyway, begging for a long time before slinking out in defeat.  Lance went after Shiro and was accepted immediately.  When he emerged he was shaking.

 

“He’s not there,” he said to Shiro rather than to the crowd.  “I’m sorry.”

 

What could Shiro say to that?  That he didn’t trust him?  That Lance hadn’t found him, either, not even when Shiro screamed?  He managed to rasp out a thank you.  There was nothing else he could do.

 

~*~*~

 

To her delight, Allura was accepted by Red and so was finally able to follow in her father’s footsteps.  Shiro was happy for her.  The Paladins invited him to try for Blue but he declined.  All he had wanted was to find Keith, not rejoin Voltron.  Matt was accepted instead.  He and Pidge were overjoyed but hid it well. 

 

Keith’s funeral was scheduled for three days out.  

 

~*~*~

 

“You need to be the one to announce it,” Allura repeated gently.  The entirety of the Paladins were gathered, as well as Krolia, Coran, Iverson, and the Holts.  It was an intervention if ever he’d seen one.  He might have have resented it if he hadn’t been so tired.

 

“I know I was the reason we didn’t announce it sooner, and I know I’m the captain of the Atlas, but Keith has actual family here and I am not the highest ranking officer,” Shiro reiterated for what must have been the tenth time.  Why didn’t they get it?  Why didn’t they know that he _couldn’t_ do it?

 

Lance glanced around.  “No one is blaming you for keeping this quiet, Shiro.  That’s something we all agreed to.  But, you’re the face of the coalition now.  It needs to come from you.”

 

“Everyone knows how much Keith meant to you--means to you,” Allura said softly, eyes full of sympathy.  “And that’s why it needs to come from you.”

 

(Everyone knew?  Keith didn’t know.)  

 

“And you _are_ family,” Krolia said firmly.

 

(Why did that hurt?)

 

“It will mean a hell of a lot more coming from you than from me,” Iverson said, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.  “If it was just about _telling_ people, I’d do it, but…”

 

“But Keith is a hero.  He saved the lives of everyone on this planet,” Sam said, taking up the sentence.  “There’s no one who isn’t going to be devastated, and that’s why it needs to come from you, the person who mattered the most to him.”

 

Shiro eyes were so blurred with tears he almost didn’t register it when Colleen sat down next to him.  She took his hand and squeezed it.

 

“You’re strong enough for this,” she said.  “I know you are, because he needs you to be.”

 

Shiro wasn't sure if he believed that, but when it was put into those words, he knew had to try.  

 

“Okay,” he said quietly, nodding.  “Okay, I’ll do it.”

 

~*~*~

 

“I regret to inform you that Keith, Paladin of the Black Lion and Leader of Voltron, has passed away.”  It was easier to say than he’d expected, but that was because the words had no meaning.  It was like he was repeating a story he’d heard somewhere else and he got through the lines without difficulty.  He recounted several of Keith’s deeds and reminded everyone--as if it was possible to forget--that he’d sacrificed himself for all of their lives.  And then came the hard part.

 

 _“You should say something extra, if you can.  Something a little personal to drive home just how special Keith really was.  They didn’t know him, after all,”_ Coran had said, ever the one to arrange a speech and throw a spectacle.  

 

Shiro paused.

 

“I know a lot of people considered Keith and I to be brothers.  Keith was more than a brother to me--brothers love each other.  Keith went straight past my heart and into my soul.  He became a part of me, and I’ll always have him with me.  He was an incredible man and his memory inspires me every day,” Shiro said.  “I hope his endless courage and unshakable determination will inspire all of you as well.”

 

He sat down to applause.  He hoped they meant it for Keith and not himself, but by the way he was congratulated on his speech later, he rather doubted it.

 

~*~*~

 

The procession was public but the funeral, thank god, was private.  Everyone was crying and saying incredibly beautiful, meaningful things, and Shiro hated all of them.  Hated the words, hated the people, the sky, the Earth, himself.  It was nice, though, to feel something other than just sorrow and guilt.  He reflected briefly that he wasn't following the appropriate stages of grief--anger should have come before depression.  Oh well.  He’d fucked up so many things in his life--why not this, too?

 

The small group of invited guests shuffled around awkwardly, waiting for him to say something.

 

“Tell him,” Krolia said in a tear-roughened voice.  “Tell him goodbye.”

 

Shiro was trembling when he shook his head.  “I can’t,” he whispered.

 

“He deserves that from you,” she insisted.  

 

Keith deserved a lot of things he hadn’t gotten.

 

Shiro turned and left. No one called him back.

 

~*~*~

 

People thought Keith had walls and they weren’t wrong, but his walls were honest.  He let you know immediately where they were and who was allowed to cross them.  Mostly that meant Shiro.  

 

People thought Shiro didn’t have walls and they were wrong.  His walls were politeness and duty and civility and a dry sense of humor.  It had always been difficult to let them down--probably something to do with his fight against his illness and his desperate desire to prove that it didn’t hold him back, that he wasn't weak--and it had been impossible after Kerberos.  

 

Keith had gotten in anyway.

 

(And even then, he had kept up one final wall, a wall that Keith knew about and respected and never once demanded to enter.)

 

He’d had a thousand opportunities to tell Keith that he loved him and he’d wasted every one.  

 

But then, his love for Keith had felt like nothing else ever had.  Other than a brief shock over seeing him suddenly two years older and a hundred times more attractive, it had never felt romantic.  It was something so much deeper, so far beyond any giddiness of a crush or even the close contentment of a longer relationship that he hadn’t recognized it.  It simply felt like living.

 

~*~*~

 

There was a lot of talk during the days and weeks that followed about death and what it meant and how inspiring what Shiro had said was.  ( _Keith.  Keith was the one who was inspiring_ .)  It was mostly vague platitudes and hollow comforts and it was kindly meant and felt like hell.  They talked about death like they didn’t know what it was, which was very fair because they didn’t.  Shit, Shiro had _died_ and didn’t know what it was--not until now.  

 

Death was being alive when Keith wasn't.

 

~*~*~

 

Shiro wasn't needed anymore but no one else had realized it.  He wasn't a Paladin.  He might captain the Atlas but that could easily fall to someone else--he was wasn't the pilot or even the gunner.  He just stood on the bridge and told people what to do.  No, Shiro wasn't needed anymore.  There were still some things he should do, though.  

 

Write a note, for example.  

 

And yes--he felt guilty about the idea of ending it all.  He knew he was still an asset, still had skills to offer.  But, god, wasn't he also a burden?  He heard the whispers, knew the rumors.  Hell, he knew it himself when he looked in the mirror--he was cracked, faded.  

 

And he was so damn tired.

 

Coran, of all people, was the one to catch him.  He came into Shiro’s office to consult on a few matters (because wars and coalitions stop for no one) and, before leaving, he cleared his throat and walked around the edge of his desk to stand next to Shiro.

 

“I know you’ve heard it from far too many people, but that was excellent stuff you said about Keith, Number One,” he said, putting his hand on Shiro’s shoulder.  “Very powerful.  It’s very similar to what Alteans believe, actually.  The people we meet in life--the ones we love--they become a part of ourselves.  It’s why we don’t believe in suicide.”

 

His pause was just a little too long, his hand just a little too heavy, for Shiro to mistake Coran’s message: I know you want to kill yourself.

 

Put in those terms--how could he do it?  He _couldn’t_ kill Keith, not even a fragment of him.  And, god damn it, that meant he had to live.

 

(It meant he had to live--for now.)

 

Shiro nodded and, not sure what else to do, patted Coran’s hand.  “I’ll...I’ll keep that in mind,” he said. 

 

Coran searched his face for several long seconds before nodding his approval.  “Please do.  I know it’s a tremendous burden, but there’s still a war going on and a lot of people depend on you.”  He squeezed his shoulder before letting go and heading to the door. 

 

“Hey Coran,” Shiro called, making the man pause.  “How did you know?”

 

“You’ve been tying up a few too many loose ends and doing it a little too neatly,” Coran said.  “That, and let’s call it a gut feeling.  Nothing wrong with working hard to get through grief, mind you.  That’s some of the best curative there is.  I’ve imbibed that tonic myself, as it were.”  He tugged on his mustache and the familiar gesture made Shiro smile.  

 

(God--how long had it been since he smiled?)

 

“Thanks, Coran.  I appreciate you saying something,” he said, and he meant it.  

 

“My door is always open to you, Captain,” Coran smiled back.  

 

(How much had that man lost?  Who had he left behind on his planet, centuries ago?  Shiro could learn a thing or two about courage from this man as well.)

 

“Thank you.  I may take you up on that,” Shiro said.  He might not, but for the first time in what felt like years he very nearly might.

 

~*~*~

 

Things didn’t get better, exactly, but Shiro got used to them.  It was easier to compartmentalize again and there was always, always, always something to work on.  There was so much rebuildling to do, so much to plan for and prepare against.  The war wasn't over, and no one was pretending that it was.  So, Shiro worked, and very rarely did he do anything else.  He didn’t go out with the other Paladins or officers.  He didn’t visit Keith’s grave.  Sometimes, he went to Coran’s quarters and they talked.  Never about Keith.  Never about whoever Coran might be missing.  They talked about space and Coran’s adventures and Shiro answered his Earth questions and they had a glass or two of wine when it was available.  Then Shiro would go back to his room and lie in his bed and stare at his ceiling in the dark. 

 

He was lonely.  And other people made it worse.

 

(But he owed Coran that much--the assurance that he was trying, that he was planning to stay alive for now.)

 

When the war came back in earnest, Shiro was ready for it.  In some ways he had been holding his breath, waiting for the axe to fall and plunge them out of the pseudo peace they’d found themselves in.  It was good to fight again.  That was something he knew how to do--fight, risk, command.  It was good.

 

The best thing Shiro could do was side missions.  Anytime he could get out of Atlas and onto the field was a good day--better still if it was with the Blades.  Krolia had forgiven him for the funeral incident, or perhaps she had never been angry.  Either way it was a painful relief to fight beside her.  She reminded him of Keith, sometimes, with her tone of voice or a certain strike in combat.  Even just that flicker of a shadow was a comfort and he sought out that solace as often as he could.  But, what he wanted more than the comfort was the danger. 

 

Not planning to kill yourself and planning to live were two different things, Shiro had discovered.  The riskier the mission, the more eager he was for it, and even he could not deny that it was because the hope of an ending burned bright in his eyes.  But that was wishful thinking.  The universe that had spent so long trying to kill him appeared to have given up and no matter how the odds were stacked against them (which Slav was always eager to relay), time and time again, without fail, the mission succeeded and Shiro came home to a dark room and a sleepless night.  It was bitterly ironic. 

 

And so, Shiro passed his days busy and his nights blank, and the numbness crept in a little closer, a little deeper, with only anger to keep it at bay.  

 

(And god he was so angry--angry at the war that took Keith away, angry at the duties and responsibilities that were still asked of him, angry at himself for never stepping up as the man Keith deserved, angry at the universe that wouldn’t let him die.)

 

~*~*~

 

Krolia was the one who confronted him next.  It was while they were out on a mission, waiting for the next opening in a sequence of pulsar waves.  There was nothing to do for the next varga or so and one of the things Shiro appreciated about Krolia was that she could wait in silence.  Not today, however.

 

“I remember what you said, before Keith’s funeral.  You spoke of his ‘endless courage and unshakable determination’ and said that he inspired you everyday.  When did that change?”

 

She might as well have slapped him in the face.  

 

“If he were still here, he would be fighting to win.  You have been fighting to die,” she continued.  “You are a great service on our missions but, if this does not change, I recommend you stay on the Atlas.”

 

“You might have heard my speech, but you have no idea what he was to me,” Shiro said darkly.

 

“Perhaps not,” Krolia conceded, “but I do know what you were to him.  I can see why he fell in love with you.  You possess many admirable qualities, and your deep ability to love is among them.  But, his love made him strong.  Yours makes you weak.” 

 

That was it, wasn't it?  Shiro was weak.  He’d always been weak.  He’d spent his whole life weak and his whole life trying to hide it, trying to deny it.  Keith had been strong.  Keith had _made_ him strong.  He’d lost something far more important than his arm the day Keith died and there was no prosthetic to fix this.

 

“Then I’ll sit out from the next mission,” Shiro said.  He knew it was not the answer Krolia had expected.  She was silent for long enough that he thought the matter dropped.

 

“He would be heartbroken if he could see you now,” she said quietly.

 

And that pissed him off.  “Because his dream version of ‘Shiro the Hero’ would be shattered?” he asked sarcastically.

 

Krolia shook her head.  “Because he would think he was the one who did this to you.”

 

Shiro’s breath caught and he inhaled sharply.

 

“I think you are wise, Captain Shirogane, for choosing to sit out.  There is a strength in knowing your limits,” she said, and that at last was the end of the conversation.

 

~*~*~

 

Shiro drank that evening, back on the Atlas.  He had intended to head to his room but found he couldn’t be bothered to leave the officer’s lounge and he slumped on a couch, bottle in hand.

 

Weak.  That was him, alright.  He’d depended on Keith for everything after Kerberos--expected him to be strong no matter the situation--and what had he ever given Keith but that: an expectation.  Sure, that happened to be what Keith needed.  God knows no one else expected anything from him.  Not even himself.

 

_“Don’t give up on yourself.”_

 

He’d said that to Keith.  The kid had actually taken his advice, too.  Fuck.  He took another deep pull at the bottle.  When exactly had he stopped taking his own advice?  Because Krolia was right--whatever he was doing right now was the exact opposite of everything he admired about Keith.

 

Keith.  He loved Keith.  He loved him with every fiber of his tired body and weary mind.  He wasn't sure when that started but it certainly hadn’t ended.  Keith had been dead for well over a year and nothing had changed.  Hell, it probably wouldn’t have changed even if Keith was still here--he’d still be using the war as an excuse to never confess, to never be as vulnerable with Keith as that beautiful man had been with him.  

 

A figure was moving in the periphery of his vision and Shiro turned to see Slav.  That bizarre creature, full of alternate realities and statistics and secrets.  He was pretty much an annoying little god, wasn't he.  All that secret knowledge.  Shiro was sufficiently deep in his drink and sufficiently deep in his wallowing to wave the alien over and ask him a question: in all the realities, had he and Keith ever happened?

 

Slav cocked his head.  “You have happened,” he said.

 

Shiro shook his head, annoyed.  “Not ‘existed’ happened--‘ _happened_ ’ happened.  Is there any reality where we were a couple?”

 

Slav slowly blinked twice.  “I meant that you have ‘happened’ happened.  You always happen,” he said.

 

“Wow,” Shiro said bitterly.  “So we happen in all realities but this one.”  He raised his bottle in a phantom toast.  “Here’s to being the biggest coward of all my incarnations.”  He drank a long gulp and coughed--more from dark laughter than from the alcohol.

 

Slav considered this a moment before slithering into the chair beside him.  “You happen in this one, too,” he said. 

 

“No we didn’t.  And won’t.  He’s dead,” Shiro parroted numbly.

 

“I know,” Slav agreed, “but death isn’t everything.  You died once, too, remember?  And that boy still brought you back.  Do you really think death has stopped him this time?  Has he ever failed to save you when you couldn’t save yourself?”  

 

Shiro was silent.

 

“You two are a great puzzlement to my understanding of realities,” Slav said.  “You are one of the few constants and I don’t know why.  But, I do know if you were someone else, you would have died by now on your missions.”  He waited a moment, but Shiro couldn’t find words, so Slav patted his knee and crawled off the chair.  “Death isn’t everything,” he repeated.  “You of all people should know that.”

 

~*~*~

 

That night, Shiro found himself staring up into the dark, just like always.  But, this time, he wondered if he really was alone.

 

“Keith?” he said softly.  

 

The silence didn’t answer.

 

“Keith, I don’t know if you’re there, but… I’ll keep trying.  I’ll finish this war, I promise,” he said, willing himself to mean it to the depth that he wanted to.  “But you have to promise me something,” he continued, swallowing hard around the painful lump that threatened to silence him--but he _had_ to.  He had to tell him.  “After this is finished… Please, let me die.  Don’t make me live forever, okay?  You’re way too good at this,” he said with a tearful chuckle.  He might be weak, but he could do this much. 

 

The silence still didn’t answer and the dark was unchanged, but Shiro slept better than he had a in long, long time.

 

~*~*~

 

To his great surprise, death did come as an accident.  It was well over a year since the war had ended and he’d made the desert jump a hundred times and so he knew--knew long before he failed to pull up that something had gone wrong.  He’d been meaning to take the hovercycle in for maintenance but had felt especially lonely that morning and decided to treat himself to a quick ride and now this was it. 

 

His last thought before he hit the ground was that it was too bad he hadn’t planned this.  He’d always intended to leave a note if he killed himself--explain some somethings, leave a few directions, say his goodbyes (and a lot of apologies)--and this death would definitely look intentional, for hadn’t he made this jump a hundred times before?  It was too bad.

 

Death, he knew, would hurt but not for long--and hitting the ground was a flash of the brightest agony.

 

He didn’t mind at all.

 

~*~*~

 

Keith had been waiting.

 

(Of course Keith had been waiting.)

 

“Hey, Shiro,” he said softly.  He was standing nearby and sheepishly rubbing his arm.  “Sorry I didn’t catch you.  That was an accident, right?  I...I wasn't sure what to do but… I hope that was okay.”

 

“Keith?” Shiro whispered.  “Is this real?”

 

“Yeah, yeah it’s real,” Keith said gently.  “You died.  I’m sorry if--”

 

Shiro lunged forward and pulled Keith to his chest.  He opened his mouth to say something but all that came out was a sob.

 

Keith was stiff for half a second and then he fiercely returned the embrace.  “I’m so, so sorry.  It’s been hell not to be there for you.  I didn’t mean to leave you.  I won’t do it again.  I’m sorry, Shiro, I’m so fucking sorry,” Keith cried.

 

“I love you,” Shiro said, and he felt rather than heard Keith’s gasp.  “I love you so much and I should have told you that every day. I know I caused you a lot of trouble and I’m sorry.  It just hurt so much to miss you.”

 

“I love you,” Keith said.  “I love you and I missed you, too.  And I don’t care about the trouble.  It kept me busy.”

 

“How did you even do it?” Shiro asked, pulling back and rubbing at his eyes.

 

“I don’t know.  I guess I’m pretty good at being a ghost?” Keith shrugged.  “I was able to touch stuff when I _really_ needed to but that was about it, and no one could ever hear me.”  He paused.  “I was able to trip Lance a few times.”

 

Shiro laughed.  God, when was the last time he had laughed?

 

“I was angry at you for a while you, you know,” Keith said.  Guilt clutched at Shiro’s heart but Keith placed a comforting hand on his arm, dispelling his fear.  “I was mad because you didn’t trust me, trust that I already knew you loved me and that you didn’t need to tell me unless you wanted to.  I was also pretty angry at you for not knowing that I would wait.  But, then you were so sad,” Keith said, voice turning soft again.  “God, Shiro, you were always so sad, and you never got happy again.  I couldn’t stay angry once I realized it.  I broke you when I died.”

 

“You didn’t exactly have a choice,” Shiro pointed out, tears forming again anyway.  

 

“I guess not,” Keith said hesitantly, “but I’m still sorry.  And sorry about all the times I saved you, um, sorta.  I know you were miserable, but… I didn’t want you to leave with regrets.”

 

Shiro could understand that.  “So, I’m really dead, then?” he asked.

 

“Yeah, um, sorry,” Keith apologized again.

 

“It’s fine, Keith, it’s completely fine,” Shiro smiled.  He looked around.  There was no sky or ground or anything near them, only an endless, white softness in all directions.   _Like clouds_ , he thought.

 

“I call this the cocoon phase,” Keith said.  “You can stand or sit or float or whatever you like, but you can’t really _go_ anywhere.  You’ll be a tired for a while, but once you wake up more you can go look at Earth again.  Or I dunno--maybe that was just a me thing?  It was like I was tied to you.  Stuff was blurry and muted if you weren’t nearby.  We can check it out, though, if you want.  I don’t know too much about being dead other than that.  There’s,” he paused. “There’s not really a gate but there’s a place...a hole maybe?  A tunnel?  There’s a place that feels like it leads somewhere, but obviously I didn’t go there yet.  I was waiting for you,” he added, a little shy. 

 

“Thank you,” Shiro smiled.  “I’m so glad you did.”

 

Keith smiled back and they rested against each other.  After a while, Keith spoke again. 

 

“You kept your hair white,” he said.

 

“Well it’s not like I was going to dye it,” Shiro said.  Waste of time.

 

Keith shook his head.  “I meant right now.  You get to choose that stuff here.  You still can change, if you think about it.  Look--you have your arm again.”

 

Shiro glanced down and saw that it was true.  He stared in wonder.  How many years had it been since he’d seen his own arm?  He looked up again and frowned.

 

“Then why did you keep the scar?” he asked, touching Keith’s cheek.

 

“I guess I’m kind of sentimental,” Keith said, looking embarrassed.  “Call it a momento.”

 

“How?  That fight was,” Shiro had to stop and steady himself.  “It was hell.”  It was the biggest failing of his life.

 

“That’s not how I remember it,” Keith said.  “I mean, it _was_ hell.  I thought we were going to die and that I’d failed you but then you saved me--saved _us_ \--with Black.  It was incredible.  Everything was lost and gone and then you were there.  You fought death and won.”  He cupped his hand to Shiro’s cheek.  “I heard all those mean things you said about the love of my life, by the way, and I have some corrections to make.  You _are_ strong and you _are_ brave.  You kept living even though it hurt.  Doing something you know is right when all you’ve got is pain is incredible.  And you know what?  You’ve always been incredible  You became a pilot despite your illness and you were amazing at it.  You were captured and tortured and forced to fight and when you escaped, you came back to Earth and saved everyone.  You weren’t even back for a _day_ before you helping us find Blue, and then we were in space and you hadn’t had any time to heal yet and you became the Black Paladin and helped us all learn to form Voltron.  Even after you _died_ you were still always looking out for us as best you could.  And everytime life knocked you down, you got back up again, but you had a bigger image of what it took to be ‘you’--like you had to be even better this time.  That wasn't fair.  You were always, always incredible no matter what happened and you always kept fighting and I know it wasn't enough for you, but it was, Shiro.  You’ve always been enough.”

 

“Keith?” Shiro whispered hoarsely.  “Can I kiss you?”

 

Keith’s hand slipped from his cheek to the back of his neck and he smiled shyly as he pulled Shiro closer.  Their lips met.  It wasn't fireworks or lava: it was _right,_ like being completed.  Their arms were around each other and in their warm cocoon Shiro couldn’t have said if they were lying down or floating or who was on top of whom--he only knew that he was held and safe and close.  

 

Keith pulled back and rested his forehead against Shiro’s.  “You’re tired,” he said softly.  “I can feel it.  Rest.” 

 

Shiro wanted to argue the point but their limbs were thoroughly tangled now and Shiro could feel Keith in the core of his heart and knew he was right.  He sighed.

 

“Don’t pout.  I’ll still be here when you wake up,” Keith promised with a quiet chuckle and a kiss to his brow.

 

Shiro shifted just that little bit closer and, for what felt like the very first time, he didn’t fall asleep alone.  

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So this was dark af. Um, sorry?? This story found me and gripped me with both hands and said “WRITE ME” and I sad “yes sir, sorry sir, right away sir!” and ta da. 
> 
>  
> 
> This fucking wrecked me. I was crying pretty much constantly while I wrote it (which is the side effect of getting inside a character’s head and possibly part of the reason I like to write funny fics). I’ve seen lots of grief fics for Keith when he was pining or post Kerberos and those are so Valid. Love ‘em. Gimme all dat star-crossed lovers fate. Yes pls. I haven’t seen *as much* grieving Shiro--more like, PTSD Shiro (also Valid). Anyway, we haven’t gotten a confession or anything like that in the show (or even talking about their fight at all!!) and I think there’s a lot Shiro would regret if Keith died before they straightened some things out. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, this fucked me up (as so many romances do) because I drew on my own relationship with my husband. That whole not-the-heart-just-in-the-soul thing is what I feel. I mean, I love him to death, but there’s this depth there that’s hard to describe. He referred to “our relationship” the other day and it kinda freaked me out, lol. I don’t see myself as being in a relationship because I see him as me. There isn’t a me without him. I talked to my therapist once about what a “happy me” looks like. There were only two things: a happy me writes, and a happy me has him. Losing my husband? I would die. I just would. I might be alive and grieve and move on or something, but the “me” that I am right now would die. 
> 
>  
> 
> Anyway. 
> 
>  
> 
> Have you guys ever heard the song I referenced at the start of the fic? I highly recommend it. One of the most beautiful songs on death I’ve ever heard. Another really good one (also by Death Cab for Cutie) is “What Sarah Said”. Insanely good. Read the lyrics if nothing else. They touch my soul right in the poetry.
> 
>  
> 
> Y’ALL GOT OFF EASY BTW. I had like two more barrels of angsty ideas that I didn’t use lol. 
> 
>  
> 
> (Y’all ever think about the fact that Slav could have TOLD them Shiro died?? Or what the probabilities of clone Shiros might be?! I love Slav, I really do, but omg little dude. Omg.)
> 
>  
> 
> I don’t think everyone fully recovers from “life” injuries, btw, and I think that’s okay. It’s like losing a limb--the wound heals and you might get better at living without it, but it’s still gone, you know? Shiro got better at living without Keith, but he never got well again. Other people expected it of him, sorta, and he definitely expected it of himself. Keith didn’t, though. He was just sad for him. 
> 
>  
> 
> I hope I didn’t make Krolia seem too mean. ;^; I see her as a very blunt person, so I thought she’d tell Shiro to stop going on the missions because it wasn't healthy for him and she told him in a way he’d understand. If just said “this isn’t good for you” he wouldn’t have listened. 
> 
>  
> 
> Planning a little break for my aching brain before returning to my Fishy Boys. Then it’ll be more Shiro the Hero! I’m so excited for all of it and I love you very much and I’m mostly sorry if I made you cry but also a little proud and I cried a TON so it’s only fair.
> 
>  
> 
> <3


End file.
